


Back to School

by dontmakemeatarget



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: College AU, F/M, Gen, Golden Age (Comics)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-19
Updated: 2016-05-19
Packaged: 2018-06-09 11:23:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6903865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dontmakemeatarget/pseuds/dontmakemeatarget
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A small (for now) collection of one-shots in a sort of Golden Swan college AU where Emma goes 'back to school' and Gold is a professor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> each of these little stories are one-shots/stand alone stories as in they don't necessarily connect to one another/ exist in the same "universe" so to speak. For many of them, there's no real reason why they couldn't exit in the same universe, but when I started writing these individual pieces, I intended them to exist independently of one another. They're not one cohesive, collective story, but rather little ideas I've had here and there about a general college AU w/this ship that jump around and don't, again, necessarily connect to one another. As such, as far as the more specific details of this AU, they may vary. Henry may exist in some or not, but unless he's specifically mentioned, no, I don't see him in this verse, though that may be something I do in the future. All I really have concrete about this verse is that yes, he teaches something law related, as I can see Emma pursuing education in that field (like how she wanted to become a bail bonds person I guess) and that she did, as in canon, spend time in jail, and did no ever initially go to college. So she's not really going "back" to college exactly, but is deciding to finally pursue a higher education. She is roughly 28 years old in this verse with Gold...a bit older hahahah.

There was still some time left before his office hours were officially over but no one had yet to show up (no one ever did) so he figured he could leave. He had gotten hungry and was going to go get some lunch at the little diner down the road from his office. But his travels were impeded when he opened his door to find one of his students standing there, hand poised to knock.

Without preamble he began speaking as he walked towards her intending to push by her. "Sorry, Ms. Swan. Whatever it is will have to wait."

But instead of her stepping out of his way, she braced her hands on the door frame, blocking his exit entirely and forcing him to stop unless he actually intended to physically push past her. He did not intend to do so. He was stronger than he looked, but he suspected the same of her.

He stopped and glared at her. She appeared not to have noticed and took her left hand from he door to look at the watch around her wrist. Sneaky as ever, Professor Gold took this time to shimmy past her. Though she seemed to have expected it and as he moved past her she reached out and grabbed him by the elbow.

"There's still fifteen minutes of office hours left."

He said nothing in return. Instead he turned back towards her and looked at her hand where it gripped him and then slowly brought his eyes up to meet hers. In all his years as a professor he was sure he never gave one of his students a more murderous glare. No one had ever dared touch him like that.

When his eyes met hers, glare firmly in place, she didn't seem deterred in the slightest and kept her hand where it was. His eyes flickered down to it once more and back to her, a silent demand for her to get her hands off him. She did not.

When his eyes met hers the second time she was giving him her best 'what are you gonna do about it' look. He couldn't believe it. Not only had she dared to touch him like she had but she didn't even care how much that pissed him off.

He narrowed his eyes at her as he licked his lips. She was an interesting one. "I'm hungry," he said in a low growl that sounded far less threatening than one would expect.

It was those words that made Emma remove her hand from his elbow. And for some reason, they nearly made her blush. That made less sense to him than anything else that had happened in the past thirty seconds. Perhaps she had finally realized who she had been physically restraining and was embarrassed.

"What?"

"I'm hungry and I'm going to get food. You can either join me and discuss whatever it is you came here for or you can wait until next class or office hours." And then he turned without another word and made his way down the hall. It was only a short while before he heard a huff of frustration and her footsteps following after him.


	2. 2

Generally Professor Gold preferred to drink alone in the solace of his quiet home but every now and again the silence was just as daunting as the prospect of being around other people and sometimes being around others was the lesser of two evils. At least in the company of others he had something to amuse him, for watching other people descend into their drunken stupors and make fools of themselves was about as much entertainment as he got on any given day. The stupidity in some of his students' work might have provided entertainment for him if it didn't just infuriate him instead.

Though another pressing problem was that there were hardly any bars in town, which weren't often occupied by the very same idiots who occupied the seats in his lecture hall. It was unfortunate enough to deal with them during the daytime and now he had to put up with them in the evening if he wanted to enjoy a drink in a public place. And the moment he stepped into the small bar he was assaulted with the sounds of college aged students fussing over some sports team no doubt and he made his way to the bar with a scowl on his face, regretting his decision already.

When he had his drink, a double, he found himself a small table in a dark corner where he could see and not be seen and therefore would not have to talk to anyone lest he chose to, which was entirely unlikely. Most of the time there he spent with his head down looking at the design etched into the table only ordering another drink after the waitress had come around to him three times. He enjoyed drinking but he didn't very much like being drunk unless he was in the comfort of his own home. He'd seen people do enough stupid things while drunk in public to know that he never wished to be one of those people, least of all in a bar full of the students he did his best to instill fear in during every lecture.

He was just finishing up his third drink when he decided he would leave but a familiar voice gave him pause. Of all the students he expected to be loud, drunk and obnoxious in a bar on a Thursday night, Ms. Swan was not one of them. Of course, he was not naive enough to assume that just because she was one of his older student it mean that she didn't let loose just the same but he also wouldn't deny that he held her to a different standard than many of his other students.

Truthfully she was far more intelligent and driven than the lot of them and he just hadn't expected to see her in the state she was in. But her severely drunken state was far less of a concern to him at that moment than the young man who was standing next to her attempting to kiss her. This was not jealousy of any kind, mind, but he could tell from where he was standing that Ms. Swan was attempting to push him away from her and he distinctly heard the word 'no' pass her lips as she tried to wriggle free from the man's grasp.

Now, whether it was his place to do so or not, he couldn't very well ignore it now that he had seen it, and he felt a certain responsibility to put an end to the man's advances as she seemed incapable of doing so herself in her inebriated state. It was clear she didn't want him to kiss her and therefore the man ought not to be attempting it any more. And so he made his way over to where she still fighting against the man.

"I believe I heard the woman tell you 'no'."

His voice was low and threatening with a look on his face to match it. Gold was considerably less built than the man next to Emma but with that look on his face and his hand curled tightly around his cane, knuckles starting to turn white, he still struck an impressive figure regardless. The man spared him one sidelong glance as though Gold were just some irksome fly and turned back to Emma to continue his advances.

This time Gold raised his cane up curling it around the man's shoulder before pulling on it roughly, causing him to turn and face him again, this time more fully. "I'm said I believe the woman told you 'no'," he repeated now glaring even harder at the man.

"I heard you the first time," the man said, finally tearing his attention away from Emma and leveling a threatening look of his own at Gold, though his was much less impressive.

"And here I thought perhaps you were deaf."

At his words, Emma let out an undignified drunken snort and Gold had to fight to not roll his eyes.

"Look, I don't think it's any of your business," the man said before once again returning his attention to Emma.

This time before Emma could protest herself, Gold stepped in between her and the man, placing his forearm against her middle as he lightly pushed her out of the way. He was mildly surprised when she didn't protest to that as well and instead took a few steps back. Perhaps she wasn't so drunk as to believe she would be able to fend the man off on her own.

"My business or not, she said 'no' so I think it's best you leave her alone."

"And what are you going to do about it if I don't?"

Gold chuckled darkly and Emma could feel the muscles in his arm tighten as he was still holding his arm across her protectively as he stood between her and the man. "Nothing you would enjoy, I assure you," he said and he lifted his cane again and the man looked at it trying to determine if he thought Gold's threat was genuine or not. Apparently he must have thought so, or decided it wasn't worth the trouble either way because he huffed once before turning and walking away.

"Look at you, my knight in shining armor," Emma said, her voice light and joking. It appeared she was too drunk to fully understand the seriousness of the situation. And her words made him cringe; a knight and shining armor was the last thing he felt he should be compared to.

He laughed bitterly before he spoke. "I wouldn't quite say that, Ms. Swan. But it didn't seem as though he was going to let up any time soon and I felt the need to step in."

"Mhhmmm," she murmured and she brought a hand up to play with the lapel of his suit and she batted her eyes at him and he began to think it was no wonder the other man had thought he could get away with kissing her. Her behavior hardly suggested she wouldn't welcome that even from himself.

He cleared his throat, raising a brow in question as he looked down at her hand. When she didn't take that as a hint to move it he did so for her but then she wouldn't let go of his hand. "Ms. Swan…" he said, a hint of warning in his tone.

She gave him her best shot at an innocent look and batted her eyelashes some more. He couldn't very well say that this was a common occurrence for him but he wasn't exactly a stranger to it either and he knew what she was doing.

"I think I should get you a cab," he went on as he tried once more to remove his hand from her grasp.

"Ooooorrr you could get us a cab, Professor."

At her waggling eyebrows, he could not even try to stop his brows from rising in surprise. Nor could he control the way his mouth went dry as she took a step closer to him, leaving barely an inch between them.

"Ahh," he said, though it came out more like a laugh. "I really don't think that's something you really want to do, dearie."

"No, I'm pretty sure I do."

"Well, regardless, I'm afraid I'm going to have to decline."

"Please," she said, once more as she batted her eyelashes at him. The more she did that the more he seriously considered her proposition but he knew deep down he could never. Agreeing to accompany her away from this bar would make him no better than the man he'd just sent on his way.

"No. You're drunk and I'm getting you a cab and you alone."

"But what if I wasn't drunk?"

He quirked a brow at her questioningly at the sudden seriousness of her tone and look on her face. For his own sanity, he hoped she was just a very good actor because he really didn't want to think about what the connotation of her words might be if she was being serious.

"Come, Ms. Swan, I'm getting you a cab. End of discussion," he said as he placed his hand on the small of her back and guided her out of the bar whilst calling her a cab.

Once outside he moved to step away from her but she slid her hand around his waist and held him to her. He tried so shift away but she wasn't having any of it.

"You didn't answer my question."

"Hm, and what question was that again?" He was stalling, hoping he could continue to ignore that question. Thought it wasn't as if even if she asked again did he intend on answering it truthfully, but he'd rather just avoid it altogether as he was mildly concerned about what his true answer was.

The fact of the matter was he would be hard pressed to turn her away if she were sober and genuinely wanted him to accompany her home. But he was also quite certain that were she sober, she never would have asked.

"About if I wasn't drunk would you come home with me?"

"Sorry, dearie, I don't deal in hypothetical situations," he replied with a relieved sigh as he saw the cab pulling up in front of them.

"Then I guess I'll just have to try again when I'm sober," she said before getting in the cab.

He shook his head lightly as he watched the cab pull away realizing just why it was that he preferred to drink at home, alone.


	3. 3

"Oh shit," a friend of Emma's hissed as she slouched down on her stool. Emma just gave her a confused look. "Professor Gold. He's over at the bar," she explained.

Emma turned and looked over her shoulder and sure enough, her professor was sitting up at the bar ordering a drink. He was dressed just as he usually was for class, wearing a nice pair of jeans and a well fitting button down. Though he wasn't wearing a tie like he usually did.

Now, whether it was because she'd had a few drinks (though not many and certain not too many), or because it was just a simple fact, she couldn't help but note that he was pretty good looking. Seeing him in lecture was different somehow and she hadn't really noticed it before. But she sure as hell noticed it then.

"What are you doing?" Her friend asked as Emma hopped off her stool, her eyes set on her professor.

"I'm going to go see if I can get him to buy me a drink," she answered as though that had been the most obvious thing in the world. Her friend looked mortified and this made Emma smile. Most of Professor Gold's students were afraid of him and hated him (not without reason, mind) but she wasn't. She'd come across worse than him before.

"You're not serious!"

"I am."

"Sorry," she mumbled as she purposely bumped into him at the bar. "Oh, Professor Gold," she said when he turned to face his assailant; artfully pretending she hadn't noticed it was him.

"Ms. Swan," he greeted smoothly in his Scottish accent. It was much thicker than it was when he lectured. She liked it a lot.

"What brings you here?" She asked conversationally as she thought about how she'd get him to buy her a drink.

"It's a bar, Ms. Swan. You're an intelligent woman, surely you can figure it out," he replied, flashing her a sardonic grin. Though she hardly noticed that, she was still back at him saying she was intelligent.

By this point, she knew she was intelligent and was certain he thought that (based on her grades and his comments on her work) but he'd never actually said it to her before. And she didn't really care at the moment that in this instance he likely hadn't meant anything by it.

"You come to bars by yourself a lot?" She asked, taking a seat on the stool beside him and brushing her last thoughts away. Her tone was teasing and almost flirty. Almost.

A small smirk threatened to creep up on his lips, but he held it back. "Who say's I'm alone?" He countered with a raise of his brow, his voice low and husky and he had an oddly seductive look in his eyes and he was leaning in towards her. If she wanted to tease, he could play ball.

She felt heat rush to her cheeks and desperately hoped she wasn't blushing. But she recovered quickly.

"Well if you're here with a date, you should probably stop flirting with me," she replied, her voice teasing once more.

And at her words, he let out an honest to goodness laugh as he sat back upright, leaning back away from her. She'd never heard him laugh before. She liked that too.

"Don't flatter yourself, dearie," he said, laughing to himself lightly once more as he shook his head before taking a sip of his drink.

She pretended to look offended by his words before she let out a laugh of her own. "Oh come on, that was flirty and you know it."

"Hardly, Ms. Swan. I know flirting and that wasn't it. If I was flirting with you, you would know it."

"Is that so?"

"Indeed."

"Prove it."

He narrowed his eyes and licked his lips at her challenging words, his signature smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth.

"What are you drinking, Ms. Swan?" He asked, smirk still in place.

"Why, you tryin' to get me drunk?"

"Not at al, dearie. I just want to buy you a drink. Any kind will do. Besides, if you're drunk, how will you be able to properly assess my flirting skills?" And then he smiled at her.

Was he starting already? Because if he was, Emma felt like she might be in over her head on this one, because that was pretty smooth.

"So, what'll it be then?" He asked once more after her silence, still smiling at her. He really needed to stop that.

"Dirty Shirley," she answered.

"Really? You didn't strike me as a vodka type of woman."

"No?"

"No. Vodka tends to attract loose, naïve women in my experience, not bright, stubborn women like yourself," he replied.

She resisted the urge to ask about his experience with loose women.

"You think I'm stubborn?"

"Very much so."

"You know, when you flirt, you're suppose to compliment not insult the flirtee."

"That was a compliment, dearie. I have a fondness for intelligent, stubborn women." As he spoke, his eyes raked over her appraisingly and he smiled at her once more before he waved the bartender over. "I'll have another whisky and she'd like a Dirty Shirley," he said, gesturing to Emma at his side and the bartender nodded and hastened to make the two drinks.

"Though I suppose the drink does fit you rather nicely now that I think about it," he said turning back to her, handing her the drink.

"Yeah?" How so?"

"Strong drink, strong woman. But also with that extra something that mixes well with such a harsh taste making it well worth a taste."

And there was that heat rising to her cheeks again. She tried not to think about his words in a different way than he intended…or had he intended it that way? No. Nope, not going there.

"So then what's my 'extra something'?"

"That depends."

"On what?"

"How much time you have," he said flashing her a winning smile.

Emma laughed brightly at his words. "Wow, you are good at this," she commented. She could've happily let him keep going, keep flirting, but she was enjoying it far too much for comfort.

"I told you," he replied, a now victorious smirk gracing his admittedly handsome features.

She took a sip of her drink and looked back at him. "So, was this real flirting or were you just trying to prove a point?"

"Why can't both be true?"


	4. 4

"That's illegal," she said, a ghost of a smirk springing to her lips. Her professor, who happened to be her criminal justice professor, had just inadvertently admitted to downloading music illegally.

He rolled his eyes at her from his side of the desk. Normally nobody came to office hours, because they'd rather do poorly in his class than see him for any period of time longer than absolutely necessary. Though she apparently was the exception. Perhaps because she was older than most of his students, she didn't seem to mind him quite as much.

In fact, this was now the third course she had taken with him and in all his years of teaching that had never happened. No one took a class with him more than once and many dropped out before they were finished with his course. By this time, he had grown used to her presence and she his. So much so, that she was hardly there solely for clarification on coursework, but more for intelligent conversation. No doubt she didn't find it often outside of his office.

So she had come to speak with him that afternoon. And as people rarely came to his office hours and most of it had come and gone before she arrived, he had assumed she wouldn't be coming and had been listening to music. She'd made a comment on it and he'd let slip it was one of the few artists he spent money on, implying he got music without paying for it.

"Yes, I'm aware, Ms. Swan."

"So you broke a law then? That's sorta like breaking a deal, isn't it? Thought you didn't do that."

"Some deals, laws, rules, whatever you want to call them are meant to be broken, dearie," he retorted, not phased in the least with her teasing about him breaking a law.

She tried exceptionally hard to conceal the smile begging to curl her lips as she pondered the question she would ask next. "And the rule about professors not dating students?" She asked.

To his credit, he didn't seem taken aback by the question at all. Had he been expecting it? Not at all, but in his many years of teaching he had heard all manner of questions and knew that simply responding was the easiest thing to do. Though he would admit the question made him curious.

"There's no such rule, Ms. Swan," he answered immediately and offhandedly.

"Are you sure? That definitely seems like the kind of thing that's not allowed."

"I'm certain there's no rule against it," he said once more as he marked a paper in front of him.

"But how do you know for sure?" She asked.

He wondered just where she was going with this and he stopped what he was doing and looked up at her, brow quirked in irritation. It wasn't often that she bothered him with impertinent questions. The small smile she had on her lips suggested that she was trying to annoy him by saying there was something that he didn't know. He knew everything, or at least that's the air he suggested to his students.

"Because I looked it up," he answered smugly, glad to be able to prove that he knew. Though he thought that he had won whatever little game it was that they were playing, it was Emma who had a victorious smile on her face. When she spoke again he realized his crucial error.

She sat back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest as she licked her lips and smiled that victorious smile of hers at him. "Now why on earth would you wanna look that up?" She asked, smirking at him in a way that made him know that he would not hear the end of this.

But before he could answer her, she waved a hand at him. "It's rhetorical. I have my theories, I don't really need to hear your answer." And then she stood, grabbed her bag and headed for the door. "See you in class tomorrow, Dr. Gold," she said with a wave over her shoulder as she left, not looking back at him.


	5. 5

Walking through the library, scowling all the way, cane thudding on the floor quietly as he did, Gold almost didn't recognize Ms. Swan as he passed her. Though in his defense, with the way she was slouched over apparently asleep, one could hardly blame him.

Altering course, he began to make his way to her, scowl turning towards something of a smirk. Reaching her table, he grabbed hold of the chair across from her (which her feet were propped on), yanked it back quickly, leaving her feet to crash to the floor effectively waking her. Predictably she started looking up in alarm at first before a scowl of her own graced her attractive features as she realized the reason she was no longer enjoying an impromptu nap. Professor Gold, however, look back at her unaffected, his smirk still in place as he took the seat across from her where her feet had been.

Noticing a small bag of potato chips open on the desk in front of her, naturally, he helped himself to them, still having yet to have said a word in greeting to his student. Her scowl still in place, it was Emma who spoke first, breaking the stubborn silence between the two.

"Those weren't mine, you know. They were here when I got here..."

With a chip half way to his mouth, he paused, mouth ajar slightly, narrowing his eyes at her in contemplation. Figuring her a poor liar, he popped the chip in his mouth, leveling her with a hardened gaze. "Oh, come now, Ms. Swan, I know you're a better liar than that."

"You owe me a bag of chips," she responded, arms crossing over her shoulders as she moved to sit up a bit more in her chair. While asleep, she'd sunk down quite a bit and was uncomfortable now that she was awake.

"It was half empty when I got here."

"Then you owe me half a bag of chips."

Again his eyes narrowed at her slightly, before he pressed on, ignoring the pointless argument beginning to form and instead cast his gaze around the cluttered desk before him. Several different notebooks lied scattered across it, pens and highlighters littering it as well. "A bit late to be studying for the exam tomorrow, don't you think, Ms. Swan?"

"The exam? Your exam?" She scoffed, uncrossing her arms and sitting up even more, placing her elbows on the table as she leveled a confident grin his way. "Please. I've been ready for that exam for days. This is for another class."

"You're ready for my exam?" He asked, skepticism clear in his voice.

"Been ready, is what I said, actually."

Professor Gold smirked, leaning back comfortably in his chair, cane poised between his legs, hands folded one on top of the other at its head. "Then you should know I'll be very disappointed should you not receive top marks, Ms. Swan."

"You won't be disappointed," she fired back easily.

"Are you sure?" He asked further, shooting her a knowing look, getting a venomous look shot back his way for his efforts.

"If you stop marking me down for bullshit reasons, then yeah, I'm sure."

Gold's eyes widened with shock at her daring to speak to him that way before he could school his features to the mask of impassivity he was known for. Though he'd heard more than a handful of shocking things from the mouth of Ms. Swan that he really shouldn't have been surprised. Whether it was due to her age and experience with the world being well above those of her fell students or some yet other unknown reason, Ms. Swan did not fear Professor Gold as so many of her classmates did. This was both something he quietly admired about her while simultaneously it drove him mad. His usual tricks and threats or looks could not work on her like it did the others and thus he'd had to invent other ways to get the desire reactions from her...none of had worked thus far.

"You ought to be careful how you talk to me Ms. Swan," he whispered dangerously in a tone that would have had others running in fear or down on bended knee apologizing for such rudeness.

"Or what? You can't mark me down for being rude to you?"

"I can do whatever I want."

She laughed, crossing her arms over her chest again. "You don't scare me. I'm not some kid fresh out of high school. Believe me, I've dealt with worse people than you, Gold," she replied, giving voice to the very thoughts he'd had moments ago. "You're not going to fail me just because you don't like me."

"You think so?"

"Yeah."

"And what makes you so sure?"

"Well for one, you don't dislike me-"

Gold scoffed before she could continue. "I beg to differ."

Emma just rolled her eyes. "Don't even start with that. Look, you wouldn't have even sat down here to begin with if you hated me. You may not be my biggest fan or anything, but you don't hate me. At the very least, you respect me-"

Again he interrupted her. "You seem to think you know an awful lot about how I feel, dearie."

"I'm good at reading people. It's kinda my thing. I show up to class, I do well in your class and I don't quake in my boots every time you give me a dirty look like the rest of these idiots-"

"That doesn't mean I have to respect you-"

"No, it doesn't mean you have to, but you do. You can deny it all you want, but it's not gonna change my mind about it."

He made a noise somewhat between a huff and a sigh. "You're very stubborn, you know?"

"Yeah, I've been told once or twice before..." And she slumped back in her chair comfortably again, arms crossed over her chest nonchalantly. "So, you gonna tell me why you decided to so rudely interrupt my nap or what?"

"No reason..." he said, ignoring the slightly victorious edge to the grin she gave him, as if he'd just proved a point he wasn't aware she'd been trying to make, nor what point it could be. "Good day, Ms. Swan," he said, standing once more, and pushing his chair in. "I'll see you in class tomorrow," he added before he moved to make his leave.

"Hey, Gold!" She piped up to his retreating form, though he did not turn to face her again. "Don't forget the bag of chips you owe me!"

Pointedly, he kept on walking, but there was a certain spring in his step as he did, and a smirk playing on his lips. Back in her seat, Ms. Swan was sporting a similar one herself.


	6. 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this particular chapter is not stand alone and is actually a continuation of the one where Gold gets rid of the guy w/the unwanted advances. This takes place the day after that whole thing.

Returning back to his home that evening, Gold did everything in his power to not dwell too much on the conversation shared between him and Ms. Swan lest he get any ideas swirling around in his head. Though as these things often go, once he tried not to think about it, he could do little else. For what seemed like endless hours, he stared up at his ceiling wondering just how serious she had been in saying she would want him to go home with her before drifting off into a restless sleep, unwanted images floating into his head of having accompanied his student home.

Waking the next morning, the very last thing he wanted to do was get up and go to class and see her again, the very thought of it bringing a light crimson tint to his cheeks. He could kill her for having planted that image in his head. Before her words the night before, the idea never would have crossed his mind, and now he couldn't rid himself of it. But it was preposterous of course, the idea that Ms. Swan would want him in such a way, nor indeed that he would want her that way...

As he dressed, he redoubled his efforts to put the whole thing out of his mind, not think on it a second longer as it was so completely ridiculous a thought, it would be a waste of time to do so. And by the time he'd showered, dressed, eaten breakfast and made his morning commute to work, indeed, he had quite effectively put the prior evening's events completely from his mind.

Unfortunately, each one had come flooding back to him the moment he turned to enter the elevator only to find Ms. Swan staring back at him. Her appearance was somewhat more disheveled than he was accustomed to and she was sporting a pair of sunglasses despite being indoors. Hungover, no doubt.

At precisely the same moment, the two looked directly at one another. Gold halted mid-stride on his way into the elevator and, though he couldn't quite see her eyes through her sunglasses, he was fairly certain she was wearing her own deer-caught-in-the-headlights look before she averted her gaze completely. Silently, she shuffled sideways within the elevator, pressing herself against the side, continuing to look down at the floor as though she were attempting to make herself appear smaller in hopes that he might not notice her.

Wishing to avoid a situation where he was with her at all less in close quarters alone with her, he had half a mind to take the stairs. Given, of course, that this would result in days' worth of pain, he cleared his throat somewhat awkwardly before twisting his face as best he could into a look of polite indifference and entering the elevator.

"Morning, Ms. Swan," he said, a slight nod given in her direction, his voice level and giving no indication that less than twenty-four hours ago she had drunkenly propositioned him for sex.

She gave a non-committal grunt and jerk of her head that he took to be her version of a proper good morning. Whether her quiet, unfamiliar demeanor was due to still being visibly hungover or out of a wish to keep her mouth shut around him after last night, he couldn't be sure. Likely some combination of both.

As the elevator began its ascent, Professor Gold was quite certain this was the slowest the elevator had ever moved in his entire life. Over twelve years he'd been teaching at the University and not once had he ever stared at the small numbers as they grew pleading with them to go faster. Time always did seem to slow when one least wanted it to do so. And judging by the small shifts in stance Ms. Swan gave and how her head flickered so often to the numbers rising she appeared to have a strange twitch, he guessed they were of like mind at the moment.

The silence was growing torturous before Ms. Swan finally broke it, voice sounding reluctant.

"Thank you-" she said, half turning to him, yet still refusing to meet his eye. "For last night."

Clearing his throat and pursing his lips, he nodded. "You've thanked me already, Ms. Swan."

"I know that, I just—well, I mean…not just for uh…getting rid of that guy for me..." She paused, tucking her hands into her pockets as she turned and faced him. Yet still, she did not look him in the eye, but stared resolutely at her own feet. "And, well, you know…getting me a cab and everything and uhm—"

"Ms. Swan," Gold cut of, tone having a hint of a warning edge to it.

"And uhm, just—"

He shot her a warning look then, hands tightening around the head of his cane willing her with all his might to stop talking. But, eyes still fixed on the floor in front of her, she missed his look completely and carried on.

"Well, thanks for not like…taking advantage or anything…"

Letting out a sigh, he brought a hand to rub at his forehead as he looked back at her, trying to look as though it had been no big deal whatsoever and that he had known she was drunk and did not hold her behavior against her. Though he wasn't entirely sure he had pulled it off. While he did know she had been drunk and was sure she never would have said such a thing if she hadn't been, he could not so easily pretend that it hadn't been one of the few things on his mind since she'd said it.

"You don't need to thank me for that. Or any of it. I'm not that kind of man, Ms. Swan, and—"

But she cut him off, this time finally raising her head to look at him, though still her eyes were obstructed by her sunglasses. "No, no! I know you're not. And I'm not really that kind of person either—" she added hastily.

Though strictly speaking that wasn't entirely true. She might not often get that drunk and hit on guys attempting to take them home with her, but it wasn't as though it had never happened before. She was a grown woman and had needs so to speak, but it was by no means a frequent occasion. That night she'd just had a bit too much to drink and forgot herself.

"This is why I don't drink hard liquor," she said with a self-depreciating sort of chuckle as she returned her gaze to her feet for a short moment, raising her gaze again only when she began to speak once more. "Look, I just—I didn't mean anything by it. I was way too drunk—"

"You don't have to explain yourself to me…"

Then, both of them were interrupted by the eventual stopping of the elevator as the door slid open. As he moved to step out, he shot her a look that let her know if she wasn't finished, she could continue, just not on the elevator and that his exiting was not a dismissal of the conversation. He would have liked it to be, but it was clear she had more on her mind.

With a look akin to relief, she nodded and followed along behind him. "I know that, but I just—I don't know, I don't want you thinking I was like trying—" She stopped speaking abruptly when another professor passed them in the wall way to his office and turned a light shade of pink.

While not sure exactly what her next words would have been, he could be relatively sure they were not ones she wanted overheard…least of all the trouble both of them could get in if someone was listening in. "Perhaps you should wait until we get to my office Ms. Swan?" Was all he said, no indication in his voice of any anger or annoyance, only that it would be the best for both of them.

All she did was nod and fall into step beside him until they reached his office. Once inside, he shut the door behind them. Before he could begin to tell her once more that she needn't explain herself to him, that it was hardly the first time he'd seen a woman drunk before and while not always the subject of drunken flirtation personally, he was not unfamiliar with the concept, she spoke up once more.

"Listen…I just, I know I don't need to explain myself like you said, but I just don't want you thinking I was like, I don't know, trying to sleep with you for a better grade or something…"

At that, his brows raised, head cocking to the side. Admittedly, the thought had never crossed his mind, least of all because she had well enough grades as it was, she hardly needed to sleep with him to receive better scores. Not that that would work even if that had been her angle anyway.

"I didn't," he began shaking his head in mild confusion. "I don't think that. You were drunk, Ms. Swan, quite clearly. I know you didn't actually mean any of it," he continued, voice getting much quieter at the end.

"Right, well…yeah, good. I mean obviously I didn't—" But she stopped speaking once again at the sight of his expression. His face had fallen somewhat at her words, just a quick flicker before his features went blank once more, but it was all the time she needed to catch it. It wasn't that he was disappointed she specifically didn't mean to flirt with him or was otherwise uninterested him, but rather disappointed by more evidence of his general lack of appeal. While it was something he was confident in and was generally unbothered by, he could hardly say it felt good to hear others agree.

"I mean…not that, uhm—" She faltered slightly and he quickly gave her a look begging for her silence again, but just as before, she was avoiding his gaze. "I mean you're my professor and stuff so it would just…I mean it's not like you're not good looking or anything—" And again she stopped talking when she saw his horror stricken face.

"Ms. Swan…" he said, his tone warning once again and his face flushed.

"I'm just saying, I mean you're an attractive older guy—"

"Ms. Swan, please!" He ground out in frustration, imploring her to stop talking before she made things worse.

And this time she caught on, her own cheeks turning slightly pink at all that she was saying. She just hadn't wanted him to be offended by what she said, and hadn't realized just what she was implying: that just because she didn't exactly want to sleep with him didn't mean couldn't want to under different circumstances.

"I just mean…yeah, never mind. I'm just gonna go now. Uh…sorry…and thank you…again…"

In response, all Gold did was gesture imploringly towards the door. While not always displeased with her presence, he could hardly imagine that her continuing to blather in front of him would do either of them only good. From what she'd said already, he was sure it would only serve to embarrass them both further, and she'd done plenty of that already.

Once she was gone, he heaved a sigh of relief and slunk into his chair behind his desk, rubbing his temples. If it had been hard to ignore the entire thing before that conversation, it would be damn near impossible now that she'd admitted she found him attractive. At least for an older man…


	7. 7

The more questions she asked, the more frustrated he grew. She was throwing a million and a half hypothetical situations at him that with as much knowledge as he had, there was only so much he could answer. It was infuriating to be perfectly honest. On some level, he should have realized this was her goal, but he was so wound up with each question she asked, he didn't even consider other possibilities as to why she was even asking him these questions at all.

It was an odd sight to behold, really, a student interrupting his lecture to ask questions. Most refrained from talking in any capacity once he'd begun. Those bold enough for any questions, rather clarifying questions or those seeking more information than he'd originally provided rarely even sought council during office hours, preferring the much less invasive method of e-mail. It suited him as well as it suite them. He could answer stupid questions while rolling his eyes and not get in trouble for it, and they would get their silly, impertinent questions answered.

Ms. Swan, however, was different. She held very few reservations like the rest of her classmates. Perhaps it was the fact that she was older than they were, going back to school rather than her colleagues who were only fresh out of high school and only just beginning to experience the world that was available to them. Ms. Swan had experienced quite enough already. She knew more than she let on, he was sure of it, the sorts of questions she asked were proof enough.

But by this point, he was growing frustrated by them. There was no way to accurately answer her questions. They were all completely circumstantial. There was no one, clear answer. On some level, he was sure she knew this. And were he thinking hard enough about it, he would have realized she was doing it on purpose. Instead, he was getting far too frustrated to think clearly, causing him to demand that she stay after class to pay for her impertinent interruptions.

When clock turned on the final minute of class, he closed off his lecture and dismissed the class. He'd already told Ms. Swan that he wanted to see her after class, so there she sat, in her seat, waiting as her other, younger classmates filed out. He supposed there was something inherently different about her given that she was older. Attending college wasn't simply the next step on the road of life, but something she actually wished to pursue. That alone put her above her classmates in his book.

Once the room was cleared, he turned to her from where he still stood at the podium, her still seated in one of the many seats in the rather large lecture hall his class occupied. "If you have questions, Ms. Swan, they're best suited to office hours. You know when they are. I don't appreciate my lecture being interrupted with your impertinence."

Popping her few supplies into her bag, she flung it over her shoulder as she stood, making her way down to where he stood. There was a certain cockiness to the way she swung her hips as she walked, matched in the lift of her brow and the curl of her lips. Gold only just managed to fight off a roll of his eyes—the huff he let out, however, refused to be contained it seemed.

"No, you just don't like questions you can't answer."

"If you'd stop inventing wild hypothetical scenarios that wouldn't be a problem, Ms. Swan."

"Those were totally valid questions and scenarios."

"They were irrelevant to the discussion at hand. If you want to discuss hypotheticals, you can do it on your own time, not mine."

"Fine, how about over dinner then?"

The suggestion in her eyes and her smirk went entirely over his head and he was unaware that she had actually just asked him to dinner.

"By all means, Ms. Swan. What do I care what you discuss over dinner with whoever?"

To her credit, Emma fought the urge to snort in laughter at him. She wasn't really surprised that he didn't get the hint, it wasn't as though he really seemed like the kind of man who got asked out on a whole lot of dates. Not that he wasn't attractive and that people wouldn't want that, but the majority of people he came into contact with were students of his and who were too afraid to even go to office hours let alone have a conversation with him outside of school hours; the others were faculty members, and she'd bet money on the fact that he was just as surly and snarky with them as he was with his students.

"You know, for a smart guy, Dr. Gold, you're kinda dumb."

"Excuse me." Unsurprisingly his tone was serious and this time she did laugh at him. At that, his scowl deepened.

She took a moment to shake her head as her laughter ebbed and looked back up at him, eyes meeting his, still with that slight smirk to her lips.

"I was asking you to dinner, Gold."

"Me?"

"Yes, you."

"Why?"

The noise she made next was somewhere between a groan and a sigh and she ignored his question, instead choosing to dig through her bag. When she resurfaced from the depths of it (he never understood how women could find anything in their bags and purses) she had a pen and a small pad of paper. Without speaking to him still, she quickly scribbled something down on the paper. Tossing the pen back in, she looked back up and held the piece of paper out to him.

Somewhat reluctantly, and hesitantly, he took it from her. Brows were lifted curiously as he took it from her, wondering what on Earth was going on.

"Here, just—go to that address at 7 tonight. It's a great little place, trust me. Hell, I'll even pay, but you better be there. And dress casual."

She didn't wait for him to respond at all before she retreated from the lecture hall, not wanting to give him a chance to decline. He could still obviously just stand her up and not show, but after having him as a professor for as long as she had, she had a pretty good gauge of what kind of man he was and he was too curious to pass it up. This fact suited her just fine, and she had no doubt that he'd be there. Early probably. He seemed like the type.


	8. 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I had some suggestions/comments about wanting to see some more drinking from these two as well as perhaps a bit of celebration for passing an exam. So here you go lol. Enjoy. ;)

"Well, well, well, look who it is. Again. Y'know, Professor, I never woulda pegged you as much of a drinker…at least not the kind that drinks in public anyway. More the sit at home brooding kinda drinker."

"Oh? And miss all the entertainment? Does that sound like me, Ms. Swan?"

"Yeah, that sounds exactly like you," she replied with a light chuckle, which he returned in kind.

"Fair enough—you're not exactly wrong, but even I like a change of pace now and again."

"If I didn't know any better, Dr. Gold, I'd say you come out hoping to see me, since, you know, I've run into you an awful lot at bars lately," she replied with an almost coy sort of smile, meeting his eyes for a brief second before she looked away, idly trailing her finger over the rim of her glass.

In response he simply gave her a look that all too clearly said: don't be ridiculous. And she laughed, taking a sip of her drink, emptying its contents.

"Oh, come on. You know you at least kinda like my company."

He gave a soft shrug before conceding, "It could be worse, I suppose."

"I'll take it. And anyway, I'm glad you're here actually."

"And why's that?"

"I'm celebrating," Emma answered automatically, having expected the question.

"Oh?"

"Yeah." She purposefully didn't elaborate, simply giving him an expectant look.

He didn't disappoint. "And what is it you're celebrating, dearie?"

"Passing your exam, obviously."

Chuckling breathily, he leaned back in his chair as he looked back at her. "Ah, of course. Well then I suppose I owe you a celebratory drink."

"Damn right you do."

Again he laughed. "So what'll it be then? What's your poison, Ms. Swan?"

Throwing him a thoughtful look, she brought her hand to her chin as she considered her options. "Well, no celebration is complete without shots, right?"

"If you say so."

"I do. If you could pick, what drink would you have a shot of?"

"Me? It'd have to be whiskey."

"Of course it would. I'll have that then."

Lip curling ever so slightly at the corner, he turned to the bartender who'd been standing nearby, ready to take their order. "Two please."

"Two?" Emma asked him as he turned back to her, brows raised in her surprise.

"I though we were celebrating?"

"I'm celebrating. Shouldn't you be mourning that someone actually passed your exam?"

"Not at all. I'm rather pleased you not only passed but aced the exam, Ms. Swan. I'd be mourning if you hadn't."

Before she could respond in any other way than to stare dumbfounded back at him, the bartender returned with their drinks in hand. "Congratulations, Ms. Swan," he said, handing placing the shot in her awaiting hand, ignoring her still dumbfounded expression. He then clinked his glass with hers, raised it in a sort of salute to her before throwing his head back and swallowing his drink in one with barely a wince. He was Scottish after all.

When he dropped his head back down, licking the remnants of the drink off his lips, he realized Emma had yet to have taken her shot. "Come on, now, Ms. Swan—drink up."

"Huh? Oh, right—" And she too threw her head back, emptying the contents of the glass in one, before slamming it back onto the bar counter with a hiss of breath. "Jesus—"

He laughed, collecting her glass and his and pushing them aside. "Not much of a whiskey drinker, are you, Ms. Swan?"

"What gave it away?" She retorted sardonically. "How can you drink that stuff?"

"Practice, Ms. Swan. Practice…though usually with better whiskey. The good stuff, you know?"

"No thanks. Not for me."

"Well, this is, after all, your party, dearie. What would you like to drink?"

"What, you trying to get me drunk?" She asked, raising an accusatory brow at him.

"After the last time I saw you drunk…" Gold answered, though giving no indication as to whether that was a deterrent to getting her drunk or a reason for doing so. A fact that did not go unnoticed by her if that slight tilt of her head and narrowing of her eyes was any indication.

"Tequila," she said, though turning to the bartender as she did. "Two of them." And when she turned back, there was a challenging look in her eyes.

"Tequila? And you say whiskey was bad." And he shivered at the thought of what was to come.

"Oh come on, it's not that bad," she said as the bartender returned with the ordered drinks as well as two slices of lime and a salt shaker, which Emma divvied up between them, a glass, a slice of lime for each of them.

He sighed, and rolled his eyes. "Ladies first," Gold then said, the same challenging look in his eyes.

"Ah, ah. This is my party, remember?"

Growling quietly, he unbuttoned the cuff of his shirt, rolling it back slightly before he brought his wrist to his mouth, licking the skin there before sprinkling a bit of salt on the now moist spot. "Contrary to popular belief, Ms. Swan, this isn't the first time I've had tequila," he added at the surprised expression she was giving him.

Not waiting for any further comment, be it verbal or not, he licked the salt from his wrist, quickly grabbed his shot and downed it before popping the slice of lime into his mouth and sucking the juice from it all in quick succession. As he set the lime back down on a napkin, he gestured to her expectantly. Without hesitation, she mimicked his exact steps and taking her shot.

"Not so bad, right?"

"Hmph. Whiskey's better."

She rolled her eyes. "How about another?"

"Oh, no, I think two will do, Ms. Swan."

"You can call me 'Emma', you know?"

"I'll take it under consideration, Ms. Swan."

"You should, Gold," she replied, doing the opposite of him and removing his formal title to which he smirked in response.

"One more? Come on—"

"One. And that's it."

"Yes!" She exclaimed victoriously before turning to the bartender once again and ordering two more shots. This time she went first, repeating the steps taken before, salt, shot, lime, and done. When she looked back at him ready for him to take his, there was a mischievous look in her eyes and Gold couldn't decide if he was scared or excited about whatever thoughts were going through her mind at that moment.

"Your turn," Emma said, voice suddenly a bit husky. Gold cleared his throat; it feeling just as suddenly dry and tight as he reached once again went to raise his wrist to his mouth. When she stopped him, reached out and grabbed his forearm to halt his movements, he found himself unsurprised, some part of him having expected this. That same feeling of uncertainty about whether he was scared or excited surged even more within him now.

She said nothing at his questioning look, but simply shook her head. Then Gold watched as she dipped a napkin into her water glass and dabbing at her neck with it. His throat constricted even more, feeling even dryer now. As he could only assume, she then tilted her head shaking her hair behind her and sprinkled salt over the newly moistened spot on her neck and did nothing more than look at him expectantly, challengingly.

"Ms. Swan—"

But she said nothing and did nothing, just stared back at him with that challenging look, and he caught a glimmer of something like victory in the corners. He realized as he spotted it that she didn't expect him to do it. She expected him to tell her no, to back down from whatever game he was only just now realizing they were playing. Why exactly she expected him to go no further, he couldn't say for sure, there were many reasons he shouldn't.

However, the knowledge (or at least suspicion) that she expected him to back out was enough to propel him forward, rising from his stool enough so he could move closer to her. Victory of his own surged as he saw her stiffen ever so slightly, but she masked it quickly. Leaning in, he gripped his cane in one hand to support him, the other on the counter beside them and licked the salt from her neck. He did so deliberately slowly, more than rising to her challenge quite willingly then retreated swiftly to take his shot.

When he looked back at her, he was not surprised to find the lime poised between her teeth for him to take. That challenge, too, he did not back down from, leaning forward to take the lime from her. But just before he could sink his teeth into it, she let it fall from between her own teeth to the floor between them, which admittedly, and perhaps foolishly, he hadn't expected. Nor had he expected her to instead reach out with her hand to pull at the back of his neck, bringing his lips to hers. He could taste the lime on her lips as he kissed her, slipping his arm, cane in hand around the small of her back, pulling her closer.

At the pressure on her back, she stood from her stool, closing what little distance was between them, gripping at his hip with her other hand, pulling him against herself, greedily, hungrily, needily. And he did not push her away. Not immediately. But instead let himself enjoy this small treat she was offering him despite so many reasons he oughtn't to.

Eventually, however, after what was perhaps far too long, he did pull back. Her lips parted from his reluctantly, her chest heaving with her breaths, brushing against the front of his shirt just slightly. The look he gave her then would have likely made her flush if not for the alcohol coursing through her, giving her a different sort of courage she may have lacked if facing him completely sober. She wasn't drunk exactly, but had had enough to act a bit uninhibited, to do as she wished without that pesky conscience of hers telling him she shouldn't. And the same was true for him.

After a short moment and finally catching her breath, she smiled a falsely coy smile. "Sorry," and the look turned mischievous once more, "I couldn't resist."

"No apology necessary—" He paused, eyes flickering across her face, looking her in the eyes before his gaze dropped briefly to her mouth before he returned his eyes to her own. "—Emma."

The bartender who'd been serving their drinks, unable to miss snippets of their conversation here and there as he stood sentinel behind the counter and had seen them kiss was unsurprised when they left the bar together, Gold's hand resting on the small of Emma's back as he guided her out surreptitiously.


End file.
